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Authors: Jana Deleon

Tags: #Contemporary, #Romance, #Contemporary Romance Romantic Suspense

The Betrayed (13 page)

BOOK: The Betrayed
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“He’s right,” Carter said. “And I’d feel better about you being in the house if Zach was nearby. The sooner we figure out what’s going on here, the sooner I can make it stop. I’ll talk to William and explain that Zach will be working on some nonconstruction-related things. You know he’ll support that decision.”

Danae sighed. “I know. We’ll start this afternoon.”

“Good,” Carter said. “If you two are okay here, I’m going to head to New Orleans this afternoon to talk to a couple of people—see if I can turn up anything on Purcell there.”

“We’ll be fine,” Zach assured him.

Carter rose from his chair and placed his hand on Danae’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “We’re going to get through this. I promise you.”

He looked over at Zach. “Would you mind getting me a couple of items from Purcell’s bedroom? Things he would have touched on a regular basis.”

Zach stood, understanding immediately what Carter wanted. “You think the print will turn up something?”

“It’s worth a shot.”

Danae jumped up from her chair and opened the pantry. “I have some sandwich bags in here. Be careful not to touch anything yourself.” She handed the box of sandwich bags to Zach.

Zach grabbed the box and headed upstairs, Carter and Danae trailing behind. Maybe this was the answer to some of the questions. If Carter could figure out where Purcell came from and why, then they might be able to get a better handle on the horrible things he did.

What worried him more was how Danae would take it if it resulted in just another dead end.

“T
HIS
IS
THE
LAST
of the records from the dresser,” Zach said as he stacked the spiral notebooks on the desk in front of Danae. It had been a long, dusty afternoon and he wanted nothing more at the moment than a hot shower. Unfortunately, the shower was going to have to wait.

As soon as Danae called it quits and headed home, he was going to make good use of the window he’d freed that morning and grab the box of paperwork from the time surrounding Ophelia’s death. He’d get it back in place long before work time, and Danae would never be the wiser. He might not have an internet connection in the caretaker’s cabin, but he’d had the forethought to bring his laptop and a scanner. If he found anything interesting, he would make a copy.

Danae looked at the stack of dusty notebooks and sighed. “So that’s everything from the dresser and nightstands, right?”

“Yeah, but I think there’s more under the bed, and I didn’t have the heart to even peek into the closet.”

She glanced at her watch. “No wonder. It’s six o’clock already. You should have let me know it was so late.”

“We were both absorbed, and besides, it’s not like my Calais social calendar is bursting at the seams.”

“Well, then, let me do something about the social calendar to make up for working you like a slave. Dinner at the café—my treat?”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to. You’ve done so much for me today. Besides, I don’t like eating alone, and my cupboard is bare.”

Zach laughed. “So essentially, you’re still working me.” He said it in a joking tone, but he could tell that what Danae was really avoiding was going home alone. With her independent nature, she’d never admit it, though.

She smiled. “Then I’ll throw in a couple of beers and, if you’re really good company, a bowl of banana pudding.”

“You had me at
dinner,
but I’m not going to turn down the rest. I had a bowl of banana pudding there last night with Carter and have already decided it should be illegal. Seriously, if I lived here, I’d be fat as a tick.”

“Not if I keep working you like a mule. Let’s get out of here. It’s probably dark already.”

She rose from the desk and headed out of the office. Zach watched her as she walked away, momentarily mesmerized by the gentle sway of her hips in snug jeans. After talking with Carter, Danae had gone straight to work, and Zach could tell her protective wall was back in place. He’d pushed all thoughts of their shared kiss to the back of his mind while he worked, concentrating instead on the real reason he was in Calais.

All afternoon, he’d been thinking about getting ahold of that paperwork and wondering what he would find, but the moment Danae asked him to dinner, his fickle thoughts had switched right back to that kiss. He could still feel the heat from her body pressed into his, her lips soft and smooth.

He shook his head and hurried out of the office before she wondered what was holding him up. Stealing paperwork and taking that kiss to the next level were the only two answers he could honestly give, and he was pretty sure she wouldn’t like either one.

As he stepped out of the office, he almost collided with Danae. “Sorry,” he said as he grabbed her shoulders to avoid slamming into her.

“No, it’s my fault,” she said as she stepped around him and grabbed the notebooks off the desk in the bedroom. “I want to bring some of the records home with me tonight.”

Zach clenched his hands as she tossed the notebooks into the box with records from the period surrounding Ophelia’s death and then bent over to lift it.

“Let me get that,” he said and hefted the box up in front of his face, afraid his frustration was showing.

He carried the box outside and placed it in her car while she locked up the house. With every step, he tried to come up with another idea. So far, Danae had refused his offers to help go through the paperwork, and he understood that. She was a very guarded person and that paperwork might contain information that was private—things she might not feel comfortable letting others know.

He’d seen how uncomfortable she was telling Carter about the payments to the families who had adopted the girls. Carter, of course, had taken it in without even blinking and had moved straight toward analysis rather than lingering over the emotional impact of her findings. But Zach had seen the flex of his jaw and knew the good sheriff was beyond angry. He was just smart enough to know that his anger would only make Danae feel worse.

Zach had liked Carter from the moment he’d met him, but at that moment, his respect for the man had doubled. If anyone was going to get to the bottom of everything happening in Calais, he had no doubt Carter Trahan would be that person. Which left Zach with two objectives—find the information he came for in the first place and prevent anyone from harming Danae.

“I’ll follow you to the café,” he said and jumped into his truck.

* * *

T
HE
INTRUDER
WATCHED
from between the blinds of an upstairs window as the heiress and her maintenance boy drove away. From his hiding place in the attic, he’d heard every conversation that had occurred in Purcell’s office. When the sheriff arrived, he was tempted to leave the attic and sneak down the servants’ stairs off the kitchen to see if he could hear the discussion, but it was too much of a risk.

The house was old and many places creaked, which made it nearly impossible to change location without alerting others that he was there. Lately, it had gotten much harder to get in and out without detection. He was fortunate he still had the front-door key that he’d stolen years ago, and he’d thought when the first heiress finished out her days in the house he could get back to work.

Now he not only had another meddling woman in his way, but also a nosy contractor who seemed more interested in the woman than repairing the house. But that wasn’t even the worst part. The worst part was that the woman had just driven off with a box that probably contained the paperwork he’d been looking for.

He banged his hand on the window, damning the day the woman had come to Calais. First, he’d finish the work he needed to do here today, then he’d pay the heiress a visit at her cabin.

And collect what was his.

Chapter Thirteen

All twenty minutes of the slow, bumpy drive, Zach thought about how he was going to access the records. Sneaking into the empty main house and stealing them was one thing, but he could hardly break into Danae’s tiny cabin with her in there. The memory of her nine millimeter was stamped on his mind.

When he parked in front of the café, he was no closer to an answer than he’d been when they left the house.

Several tables were occupied, but the far corner held an empty booth with no one seated nearby. Zach pointed to it and Danae nodded. Unless they were yelling, they wouldn’t be overheard. As soon as they took their seats, the waitress walked over, a big smile on her face.

“It’s great to see you again,” Sonia said to Danae. “I didn’t get a chance to thank you this morning for quitting. I really needed my job back and there’s only so many available in Calais.”

Danae smiled. “I’m glad it worked out for everyone.”

“I do have a favor to ask, though. I have some personal business to take care of tomorrow. Is there any way you can cover for me? I know it’s Saturday, and I don’t want to ruin your weekend, but it’s just the midmorning shift, so you wouldn’t start until nine. Irene said she can come in early and cover starting at eleven.”

“Is Johnny okay with it?”

Zach’s pulse sped up a tick and he knew he was holding his breath, waiting for the answer. If Danae was out of her cabin for the morning, that would give him time to get in there and look at some of the documents.

Sonia rolled her eyes. “You know Johnny. He said he doesn’t care as long as the food gets out before it gets cold.”

Danae nodded. “That sounds about right. Sure, I can do it. I hope it’s nothing too serious.”

Sonia looked down at the floor for a moment and Zach could see a blush creeping up her neck. “Just some old business that needs to be handled. You know how it is.”

“I do. Well, good luck with it.”

“Thanks. Can I get you guys something to eat? Pot roast is the special, and I have to say, Jack’s outdone himself. It’s fantastic.”

Zach nodded and Danae held up two fingers. “Make it two, please?” she said.

“Got it,” Sonia said and hurried back to the grill to put in the order.

She’d barely left when one of the men at the table nearest them rose from his chair and sauntered over.

Danae looked up and smiled. “Hi, Mr. Martin.”

“Roger, please,” he said to Danae and then stuck his hand out to Zach. “Roger Martin.”

Zach shook the man’s hand, wondering what he wanted. His companions, two older men, watched from their table, and Zach could see them speaking to each other, their shoulders almost touching.

“Zach Sargent. It’s nice to meet you.”

“I don’t think I’ve seen you around before. You a relative?”

Zach shook his head. “I’m a contractor. Mr. Duhon hired me to make some repairs at the LeBeau estate.”

“I heard the place was in a real state of disrepair. No way Amos could have kept all that up at his age.” Roger turned to Danae, studying her for a moment. “So, I hear you’re one of Ophelia’s missing daughters.”

Danae sat up a bit straighter, clearly uncomfortable under Roger’s scrutiny. “I guess it seems strange to everyone that I never said anything.”

“Not to me. Purcell wasn’t well liked and you couldn’t have known what you might walk into here. I don’t blame you for taking in the lay of the land before offering up that bit of information.”

Zach saw Danae relax a bit.

“Well,” Danae said, “I hope others share your feelings.”

“I’m sure most do. Anyway, I wanted to apologize for not recognizing you. You were just a baby when I saw you last and you don’t look much like your mother....”

“No, I don’t. Did you know my mother well?”

Roger nodded. “I was the sheriff for thirty years. I knew everyone. Of course, no one saw her much after she married Purcell. He was a bit of an odd duck. Kept you all locked in that house like the apocalypse was coming.”

“That’s what I hear. I don’t really remember anything.”

“No, I guess you wouldn’t. She was a nice woman, your mother. What my mother would have called a real lady. Anyway, I just wanted to say that if you need anything, I’m happy to help.”

“Thank you.”

Roger gave Zach a nod then walked back to his table.

“That was weird,” Danae said, glancing back at Roger before turning back to face Zach.

“I take it you weren’t friendly before?” Zach asked.

“I was as friendly as I am to all the customers, but I never got to know him like some of the other residents. Until now, he’s never spoken to me other than to give his order. I didn’t even know he was once the sheriff.”

Zach glanced across the café and saw Roger frowning at Danae, his brow scrunched as if in thought. “I wonder what he wanted.”

“You got that feeling, too?”

“That he had an ulterior motive for the conversation—sure.”

She sighed. “Me, too, but I have no idea what.”

“Maybe he just wants some gossip to spread around,” Zach said. “I’m guessing there’s not a whole lot to talk about in Calais.”

“You may be right. The two men with him are both widowers and worse gossips than most women I’ve known. Roger isn’t married now, but I suppose he could have been married before. Maybe they’re just bored.”

“Or maybe he was looking to hook up with an heiress,” Zach teased.

Danae stared at him, her dismay so obvious, he laughed.

“That’s just wrong,” she said. “He’s old enough to be my father.”

“A lot of women see that as a plus.”

“Weak, lazy women who have daddy issues. I hardly need a man to take care of me.” She stopped speaking abruptly and stared at him for a moment. “You’re picking on me, and I totally took the bait.”

“Sorry, but I couldn’t resist, especially as I can’t imagine you hooking up with a man for any reason other than you wanted to.” Before he could stop himself, his thoughts tumbled out of his mouth. “You’re an admirable woman, Danae. I wouldn’t blame a man, regardless of age, for taking a shot at you.”

She shifted in her seat, looking both flattered and uncomfortable. “Thank you, but I’ve been surrounded by bulletproof glass for a long time. Anyone shooting at me wouldn’t stand a chance.”

“Maybe,” he said and smiled. What she said was probably true of her past, but he’d already put a crack in that shield. Danae wasn’t as insulated as she wanted to believe. Her statement also made him wonder what had happened in her past that made her so cagey, so protective.

“Can I ask you a personal question?” he asked.

“Sure, but I reserve the right not to answer it and to rescind my offer to pay for dinner.”

“I’ll take my chances.” He studied her for a moment, trying to decide the best way to approach the subject, then finally just blurted it out. “What happened to make you so closed off? You don’t strike me as a woman who would take abuse, but I figure it had to be something horrible. What did he do—cheat on you? Steal your money?”

Danae’s eyes widened. Clearly, the question had been an unexpected one. “I’ve never been married or even in a serious relationship.”

“That surprises me.”

“Why?”

“You’re a beautiful woman. I can’t imagine you don’t know that or that other men haven’t noticed. You mentioned working in bars and cafés—how many times do you get hit on in a week?”

“That doesn’t count. That’s just men behaving like boys.”

“Yes, but men don’t behave like boys unless they think a woman is attractive, something I’m sure you’ve seen played out a thousand times in your lines of work.”

She shrugged and looked down at the table.

“So what caused you to close off this way?” he asked. “You’re an intelligent, beautiful, engaging woman, but you’ve made yourself an island surrounded by suspicion and distrust.”

She looked back up at him, but her gaze seemed to go right through him. Whatever haunted Danae LeBeau went much deeper than a failed romance or the betrayal of a friend. Finally, her vision sharpened and she narrowed her eyes at him.

“My choices are not up for discussion,” she said.

Before he could reply, Sonia slid two plates of food in front of them. “Y’all need anything else?”

Zach waited a second for Danae to reply, but when she remained silent, he looked up at the smiling waitress and shook his head. “No, thank you.”

“Okay. Holler if you do.” She jaunted off across the café, leaving them wrapped in silence so thick he could cut it.

* * *

D
ANAE
JUMPED
INTO
her car in front of the café, barely lifting her hand to Zach as he pulled away in his truck. They’d finished the meal in silence except for the barest of sentences, like “Please pass the salt.” She knew Zach was disappointed that she wouldn’t engage in any of the topics he’d put forward, but she simply wasn’t ready.

Yes, she was attracted to him—how could she not be? He was strong, sexy and hell-bent on protecting her. And even though the last thing she needed was a white knight, her heart beat a little bit stronger just knowing that such a man wanted to be her savior.

Then there was the kiss.

She’d been kissed before—probably not as much as people thought, but certainly, she was no innocent maiden. But something about Zach’s kisses was different. Her whole body responded to him, every single square inch as if it were awakening for the first time. It was exhilarating and frightening all at the same time.

Then he’d asked her why she didn’t let people in, and all romantic thoughts had flown out the window. Her gut had involuntarily clenched as every horrible moment from her past ran through her mind on speed play. Then, for a millisecond, she thought about telling Zach everything.

A second later, the thought fled as if on fire and she returned to her good senses, wondering what in the world had gotten into her. Sure, Zach was gorgeous and she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t interested in a physical relationship, but she’d always guarded her past like Fort Knox, intending for it to go to the grave along with her. What in the world had caused her to think, even for a split second, that she should share her past with a man who was essentially a stranger?

Sighing, she rolled down the window to let the cool autumn breeze waft over her. Maybe the air would clear her head. As she put the car in Drive, a hand clutched her shoulder and she jumped.

“Sorry.” Amos, the ancient LeBeau estate caretaker, stood outside her car door, leaning on a crutch with his free hand, the other crutch tucked under his arm.

“Amos! You shouldn’t be walking around like this. It can’t possibly be good for your foot.”

He waved a hand in dismissal. “If I have to rest another minute, I’m going to just go ahead and die. My niece is one of those hoverers. Darn woman spends all day standing over me or peeking at me around corners. A man needs some room for his thoughts. Ain’t had a single one of my own since I moved in with her.”

Danae held in a smile at the crotchety man’s delivery. She knew the niece and didn’t doubt for a minute that she was hovering—she was decidedly that kind of woman—but she also knew Amos probably made the worst patient ever.

“Anyway,” he continued, “I saw your car here from her living-room window, and I’ve been waiting for her to take her nightly bath so I could sneak out and talk to you. You got a minute for a foolish old man?”

“Of course.”

Amos scooted away from the door so that Danae could exit the car, then he pointed to a park bench on the sidewalk in front of the café. She took his arm and guided him over to it, then sat beside him.

“I guess you heard the gossip,” she said.

Amos nodded. “I should have figured it out before. I felt something—a connection, I guess—with you the first time I saw you at the café. But I didn’t understand why. I mean, you’re a nice girl and a pretty one, but it was something more than that.”

“I was only a baby when Purcell sent me away, and I don’t look like either of my parents, not enough to call attention. It’s not surprising that you didn’t recognize me. Alaina didn’t, either.”

“You got her smile—your mom’s, that is. Did even when you was a baby. You used to follow me all around the house when I was trying to do my work. If I ignored you, you’d clutch my leg and I’d go dragging you down the hall, you riding my leg and giggling so hard it gave you the hiccups.”

Danae smiled. “I wish I could remember that.”

“Maybe you will someday. I know you was just a little thing, but being here, in the house, you might get a flash of memory now and then.”

Amos sat up a little straighter and rubbed his old blue jeans with one hand. “You’re staying at the house, right?”

“No. I’m still living in my rental. It’s on estate property and William said that was good enough to satisfy the requirements of the will.”

The relief on the old caretaker’s face was apparent. “That’s good. I don’t like the idea of you being in that house.”

“I am there during the day, though. William hired me to go through paperwork for the estate, but I’m not alone. The contractor William hired is there with me.”

“I guess that’s all right, then.” But he didn’t look convinced.

“Is there any reason you don’t want me to be there?”

Amos stared at the sidewalk and nodded. “I haven’t told no one. They’ll all think it’s just the ramblings of an old man, but I know what happened.”

“What happened when?”

“When I broke my foot.”

“I thought you fell down the stairs. That’s what William said.”

“Because that’s what I told everyone, but the truth is, I ain’t walked up them stairs in ten years or better. Sometimes went a month or more without seeing your stepfather. Hadn’t seen him in months when I found him dead on the floor right there in the entry.”

Her mind immediately created a visual image of Purcell’s cold, lifeless body splayed across the marble floor of the entry, and she crossed her arms over her chest, suddenly feeling a chill.

“So how
did
you break your foot?”

“I was leaving the house by the back door, like I always do. It was still daylight, so I could see clearly. I stepped outside and fumbled a bit for my keys. When I started to turn around to lock the door, someone shoved me.”

BOOK: The Betrayed
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